


Untimely Arrival

by dearly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reunions, Romance, Sherlolly Appreciation Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearly/pseuds/dearly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly experiences déjà vu with the sudden return of Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untimely Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble originally published on Tumblr for Sherlolly Week. Edited a bit from the original.

_No, no, no_. "This is  _so_  inconvenient."

The impulsively spoken words echoed quietly in now empty locker room. Her smile upon seeing him had since vanished. Her jaw slackened with her mouth hanging open as she wondered just what the hell exactly had just happened. The room suddenly began to feel like it was spinning. She slammed the door of her locker shut and sat down on the bench covering her face with her hands.

She felt a strange sensation not knowing whether to laugh or cry. The whole situation felt like déjà vu since she had muttered the same exact words to herself the first time she met him five years ago.

 

* * *

 

Molly Hooper had been warned by numerous people about the unusual detective who regularly used the lab at Bart's for his work.

"He's…" they began, followed by a pause as they considered their choice of words before deciding on one: 'rude', 'annoying', 'demanding', 'difficult', 'immature', 'a genius', even 'oddly sexy'.

It didn't give her much concern. She could usually get along well with anyone, no matter how strange they might be. Most people would probably consider her odd given her career, so she tended to have a soft spot for people who lived outside of normal conventions.

Some of these warnings had included descriptions of his appearance calling him 'striking' and she didn't quite know what to make of it. But this too didn't really faze her. She was casually dating a fellow resident, Daniel, for the past few months and was happy where things sat with him. She was even hoping that their relationship would advance to the next stage, but he seemed hesitant.  _Just be patient_ , she told herself.

Then on her fourth day on the job, she met Sherlock and that patience had gone out the window.

At the moment she laid eyes on him, she was aware of two things: (1) that her heart had fallen in her chest somewhere near her stomach, and (2) that she was in deep, deep trouble.

_No, no, no._

It wasn't love at first sight, that came with time, but she felt an instant connection to him that she had never felt with anyone before. It was as if a magnetic pull was drawing her to him. She had been in love before. This was so much more.

He wasn't really even her type. Due to her football playing days in school, she was usually drawn to the athletic, strong and sturdy, average-looking-bloke types.

He was mysterious, looking like he belonged in another place in time. Wan, ethereal, but still exuding strength and energy. He was so pale that he was almost see-through. When his sleeves were rolled up, she fought an urge to follow the path of the veins in his arms with her finger. His cheekbones were so prominent; he looked like he was chiseled out of stone.

He was built like a long distance runner, tall and lean with a glorious mop of dark curls that only added to his brooding demeanor. In her dreams she could feel those glossy tangles as she imagined her fingers exploring every inch of him.

He wore designer suits and looked like he stepped out of the pages of a magazine but wasn't the type to fling his wealth in one's face. Everything about him was effortless: his appearance, his movements, his dialogue. He just had an certain air about him.

He was gorgeous.

It was hard for Molly to take her eyes off of him.

After meeting Sherlock, Daniel suddenly seemed as interesting as a piece of stale toast. She broke things off with him a few days later, feeling guilty but unable to give a reason.

Though she knew in her heart the reason was Sherlock. The reason would always be Sherlock for all her future failed relationships. No one else could compare. It was too unfathomable to picture herself with anyone with Sherlock in her life.

She learned quickly why people had called him "demanding" and "difficult". He expected perfection. He kept her on her toes. He made her a better pathologist.

After their first time working together, he wouldn't work with anyone else. She couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. This insanely intelligent man needed her assistance. He  _needed_  her.

And she enjoyed it. She loved getting to hear about his cases and being a part of them. It was like living out the fantasies of her twelve-year-old-mystery-novel-loving self. She was opened up to a dangerous and exciting world that she knew existed from having worked in the morgue, but had never fully been a part. Sherlock had brought her into his world.

Before she knew it, she was in love.

Loving him wasn't always easy. In his bad moods, he could give cutting remarks about her appearance or relationship status.

But he never treated her as inferior. He never questioned her job or intelligence. He accepted Molly just as she was. Just as she accepted him too, flaws and all.

She held out hope that one day he would change. That he would realize what had been in front of him all along.

And then one day it happened, he finally admitted that he needed her. Not just her help,  _her_.

But it happened he had to leave. Whatever progress they had made had been put on hold indefinitely.

 

* * *

 

Now here she was years later. Engaged and regretting it.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see Sherlock. No, it was quite the opposite. She had been waiting,  _yearning_  so long for this reunion. All she had from him for two years were a couple notes through Mycroft letting her know that he was still alive.

She had missed him so badly.

But she thought she wouldn't still feel this way. She  _thought_  she had moved on with Tom. She  _thought_  the time apart had lessened her feelings for him.

It hadn't. But she had just realized it with his sudden reappearance. Seeing him standing before her with that smirk on her face had only proved her wrong.

There was something different about him too. A calmness. His rough edges seemed somewhat softened. It was the Sherlock she had always wanted to see.

Those two years had had an effect on him. Who knows what he had been through? A few remarks by Mycroft had led her to believe that what he was doing was quite dangerous.

She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss his wounds, especially that one on his lip, which was no doubt the result of his visit with another certain, less sympathetic doctor.

But she was with Tom.

Her timing with Sherlock always had been off.

And right on cue here he was again, badly timed as ever.

" _Hello, Molly." He spoke after a brief silence as they gazed at each other._

" _You're back," she blurted out rather stupidly. The shock at seeing him had given her a mental block leaving it difficult to form words into sentences._

" _Appears so." His spoke quietly. His usual confident manner was somewhat dampened. Was it her imagination or was Sherlock Holmes nervous?_

_"How about some coffee?" His eyes flickered up at her as the corners of his mouth curved into a knowing smile._

_Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears that she thought for a moment she had misheard. "Coffee?" she asked hesitantly as she leaned back against the locker for stability._

_"I think you asked me once and it's about time we got some. What do you say?"_

_Oh dear. She was in trouble. "Um…sure I guess. I-I just need to grab some stuff out of my office."_

_His smile brightened for a second before he attempted to hide it. "Cafeteria. I'll be waiting for you, Molly."_

_He swept out of the locker room in one fluid motion with his last few words still echoing in the room._

No doubt he knew she was engaged, probably deducing it first thing even though she wasn't wearing her ring. And yet.  _I'll be waiting for you, Molly._ Those words seemed to carry a double meaning.

She stood up and took a deep breath.  _It was just coffee with Sherlock_ , she told herself.

_Wrong_ , it whispered back. It was so much more.


End file.
